Grown Ups
by thesheepisblack
Summary: We were kids when we met. We were kids when we fell in love. He's a grown-up now, but what am I? Stuck in the past. AU/OOC/Not related to the crappy Adam Sandler movie
1. Chapter 1

**Twilight belongs to Stephenie. I'm just giving her characters baggage.**

* * *

All eyes are on me as I make my way down the aisle. I hate this kind of attention. It takes everything I have not to just bolt down the aisle to get it over with. I didn't want to do this. But Alice is an unstoppable force. I avoid the eyes of all my family and my friends. Instead, I look at him. He hasn't changed a bit. We lock gazes and a staring contest commences. He wins. He always wins.

The ceremony is beautiful. Perfect, really. Promises are made, love is professed, and smiles are exchanged. The reception is superior to the ceremony. Genuine happiness fills the air. Laughter rings throughout the room.

"Dance with me," he requests after I finish my half-assed speech. I'm not very good with words. I'm surprised he wants to dance. I shouldn't be, but I am. Savage Garden is playing after all.

I down the contents of my champagne glass and place my hand in his.

"People are staring," I whisper. He shrugs.

Our song ends and I pull away.

"You want to get out of here?" he asks.

"They'll kill me."

"I don't think they will," he says, pointing to the brides. Rose and Alice are in their own little world. They're communicating only with their eyes, aside from Rose groping her new wife's ass. I look down at my blue bridesmaid dress. It's lovely, but it's so so tight. I can barely breathe.

I take one last look at the happy couple and then back at Edward. His brow is raised, he's waiting for an answer. As if he doesn't already know.

We fuck in his car. Then on his couch. Then in his pool. And finally, in his bed.

It alternates from being hard and fast, and soft and languid.

"Fuck," we yell simultaneously. We're both exhausted.

* * *

"Morning," I hear. I groan and there's a laugh.

Edward.

"We slept together," I say, stating the obvious.

"More than once," he says.

"We haven't done that since. . ." I stop.

"Yeah."

Fuck.

"We should do some coke." I need to get through the morning.

"You still do that?" he asks, judging.

"Yeah I still do that," I say defensively. "Look, this was nice and all but I gotta go."

"Don't run away," he says.

"Don't worry, I won't. I'll jog." I'm dressed within thirty seconds. What's more perfect of a "walk of shame" outfit than a wrinkled bridesmaid dress with cum on the fabric?

"At least let me make you breakfast."

"I'm not hungry," I lie. I always lie.

"Why do you always lie to me?" He reads my mind.

"You can't handle the truth!" I yell, impersonating Jack Nicholson. I'm trying to lighten the mood. My therapist says that's a defense mechanism. I like to think it's because I'm hilarious.

"Bella," he starts.

"This was fun. Let's not do it again," I say, grabbing my clutch. And then I leave.

* * *

It's freezing outside. The air is crisp, it smells like fall. I kind of love it. I hail a cab, instructing him to get me to the nearest Starbucks, and quick. I enter the coffee shop, looking very much like I just had tons of great sex. Which is true. It was great. We always did know how to please each other.

"Short cappuccino," I order. It's the closest drink they have to a double-shot.

I grab my coffee and go. I desperately need a shower, it's the first thing I do when I get back to my apartment.

"How was the wedding," Jacob asks as I walk out of the shower.

"How was your assistant?" I retort. He's shocked.

"What are you—"

"I've known the whole time," I tell him, tired of keeping my knowledge secret. "I slept with Edward last night." I don't say this to hurt him. That would entail still caring about him, when really, that ship sailed long ago. I tell him so he knows that I'm done pretending.

"Please don't end this. I need you." Being in a "committed" relationship adds credibility to Jacob's work. Businessmen don't want to invest in some young, naïve fuck-up.

"You don't need me, you need a trophy wife. Check the internet, I hear you can get anything you want with it," I say before adding, "I need you out of the apartment by tonight."

* * *

"We knew it," Rose says, applying her signature red lipstick. She's a blonde Dita Von Teese, and she knows it.

"We didn't want to say anything," Alice adds, twirling a piece of Rose's hair.

"_You_ didn't want to say anything," Rose corrects with a teasing smile.

They're in love. I stopped believing in love after Edward, but then I found my girls. What they have is pure, unadulterated love. I can't help but want it, even knowing no one could ever love me.

"Enough about Edward," I say. "How was the honeymoon?"

It's been two weeks since the wedding and the newlyweds just got back from Europe.

"It was amazing. Paris was exquisite," Alice says dreamily. Rose nods in agreement.

They tell me all about their trip, detail by detail. They show me picture of them by the Eiffel Tower and the Trevi fountain.

They invite me to stay for dinner, but even after two weeks of post-marital sexcapades, I can tell they need some alone time.

Or maybe I just need some alone time.

* * *

**A/N: This is an edited/revised version of the previously posted chapter one. I kind of jumped the gun in publishing but now that I have a better idea of where this story is going, I'm going to go ahead and continue. This story is unbeta'd so any mistakes are mine. Go easy on me please, I'm new to this! Also, I'm on Twitter TheSheepisBlack. I talk about feminism and cats.  
**

**Chapter q+a: What made you believe in love for the first time?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Stephenie owns them. I just make them lesbian :) Also, this story will contain some lines from the movie "Bachelorette" and also "Gilmore Girls".  
**

* * *

It's snowing. It's not unusual to snow in early November. This is Chicago.

I love it. The city is where I belong; I've known this since I was a little girl. I love the sounds. I love the skyscrapers, the way they light up and illuminate the city.

I'm going on a date. The notion is ridiculous, but Rose and Alice both agree that I "need to get out there". They'd get along well with my mother.

I'm wearing a white dress with a leather jacket that matches the color of my leggings. I place an off-white faux fur scarf around my neck to accessorize. No amount of makeup in the world can cover my red nose, it's just too damn cold. But I put some on anyway. I line my lids with kohl and add a deep crimson lipstick to top the look off. I look nice.

I blow out the candles I've got burning and head out. He chose the restaurant. Apparently, he owns it. I try not to be impressed, but fail miserably. I love food; especially food that I don't have to make.

The restaurant is toasty warm compared to the city's icy air. A hostess greets me upon entering and asks, "How many?"

"I'm actually waiting for someone."

"Oh I see. What's your husband's name? He might already be here," she says. I raise my brow at her assumption.

"Oh no, I'm not married. I'm not an adult either so. . ." She laughs.

"Can I get a name?"

"Bella Swan." The hostess stands up straighter, her eyes widening.

"Oh! You're _her_. Please, follow me," she orders. I hate surprises.

She leads me through the doors to the kitchen and I gape at the scene in front of me. There's a candlelit table in the middle of the room, with a plethora of food sitting on it. But that's not the best part. A tall, ridiculously handsome man smiles at me.

"You must be Garrett," I say.

"And you're Bella. Please, sit," he says.

He's the perfect gentleman.

"All this is for me?"

"Absolutely. Please, dig in, I made it myself." He points to the large gourmet pizza sitting on the table.

It's phenomenal.

"Oh god, this is delicious. Pizza is one of the four foods on my food pyramid," I moan.

"What are the other three?"

"Prozac, coffee, and red wine," I tell him. He laughs. Why does everyone think I'm joking?

"You like coffee?" he asks.

"I need coffee in an IV."

"Don't us all. I own a portion of a coffee roasting company; I'll have to take you there sometime."

The fact that he's insinuated we'll be seeing each other again doesn't faze me in the slightest. I actually like this guy. So I have to get it out of the way. It's what's best for both of us.

"Do you want kids?" I blurt. "I'm sorry; I know that's a completely inappropriate question to ask on a first date. But I don't want to—"

"No," he cuts me off. "It's not an inappropriate question to ask. My last relationship ended because we both wanted different things. She wanted kids, I didn't. I still don't."

A smile widely and take a sip of the superb wine sitting in front of me.

"We're on the same page then."

"Tell us everything," Rose says sternly as she pours me a glass of wine.

"Did he wine and dine you? Did he kiss you? Was there sex?" Alice interrogates.

"Slow down," I laugh.

"Well you know my blabbing capabilities are infinite," she says.

"He doesn't want kids," I announce.

Rose and Alice look at each other, doing that eerie silent communication mechanism they always do.

"Guys, this is a good thing."

They nod, but the previously content mood is diluted.

"There are other ways—" Alice starts, but I shake my head. No.

"I guess you girls are just going to have to have a baby that I can spoil," I joke. I don't want to be a downer.

They smile knowingly at each other and that's when I know.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"It's really early, we didn't want to jinx anything," Alice says.

"Who's—"I start, but Alice cuts me off.

"Rose is carrying. I mean, can you imagine a human being coming out of this thing?" she jokes, gesturing to her tiny pelvis.

"Congratulations you guys, this is amazing. I'm going to be an aunt!"

I'm happy for them. Truly, I am. But the broken fifteen year old inside me is screaming at the top of her lungs at the unfairness of it all. I'll never have what my girls have and it's all because of Edward.

* * *

**A/N: A bit of Edward and Bella's past is on its way. The chapters should get longer as the story progresses. **

**Chapter Q+A: Do you want/have kids?**


	3. Chapter 3

**SunFlower Fran Helped me out with this chapter. Thanks girl! Stephenie owns them. I just give them mommy issues.**

* * *

Chapter Three

_November 25th 2003_

"_What does it say?" I ask Jessica. My voice is not my own. My throat is constricting. The stress is overwhelming. I think I'm going to throw-up._

"_It's positive."_

_Bring on the vomit._

_She holds me while a sob._

"_I need Edward," I say. "I need him now."_

"_Okay sweetie, let me call him."_

_I puke again. My throat burns. From the crying or the stomach acid, I'm not sure. Probably both._

"_Bella?" I hear. Jessica's holding her cell phone up to my ear._

"_Edward, I need you. Something's happened."_

"_Bella, now's not really a good time."_

"_It's an emergency," I wail._

"_What's going on?" he asks._

"_I'm pregnant." It's the first time I say it out loud. It sounds as if I'm speaking a foreign language as the words roll off my tongue._

"_What?" he spits into the phone. "Where are you?" _

"_I'm at home. Please hurry."_

"_I'll be there in a few hours."_

"_How is she?" I hear_

"_She's been puking her guts out and crying all night. She's not well."_

_I can hear him pacing._

"_This wasn't supposed to happen. How did this happen?" He yells, hitting my wall._

"_Edward?" _

_He's next to me in a flash._

"_Baby," he starts, but he swallows painfully. His nickname for me isn't cute anymore. It's now an omen._

"_Bella," he tries again. "We're going to take care of it together, __all right__?"_

_I think about his words and what they mean. It takes me a few minutes to catch on._

"_What do you mean 'take care of it'?" I ask defensively._

"_Bella, you're fifteen. You can't have a baby. _We _can't have a baby."_

_Reality hits me like a ton of __bricks, and__ I start sobbing._

"_No," I cry into Edward's shirt. "No."_

* * *

November 25th 2013

"Hello?" I answer.

"You're coming over for Thanksgiving right?" Alice.

"I don't know; I might have to work." I lie.

"Edward's going to be there."

Oh.

"Yeah, I'll probably go."

"Bring Garrett!"

"It's a bit soon for that isn't it?"

"Tell him we need a good chef."

I don't argue. Garrett and I have been spending a lot of time together lately, and we genuinely enjoy each other's company.

A gift basket was sent to the bar yesterday, filled with a box of pizza, Prozac, red wine, and gourmet coffee beans. He remembered.

I wasn't used to being this pampered. Jacob never gave me gifts, not even in the early stages of our fluke relationship. And Edward, well, I had pretty low expectations when I was fifteen.

After I hang up, I put a pot of coffee on and hop into the shower.

The water feels fantastic against my skin, and it's as I'm lathering my scalp with shampoo that I realize I haven't been touched since the wedding.

Since Edward.

With a sigh, I slide my fingers between my legs. I imagine Garrett's face, his mouth, his tongue. But as I come, it's Edward's face I see. It's Edward's name I yell.

* * *

Thanksgiving is tomorrow. I got my hair done, splurged at Sephora, and got an outfit from Neiman Marcus. I work on a bartender's salary which is next to nothing (aside from the tips), but because of the settlement, I'm set for life and then some. I want to look good for Garrett, but also for Esme and Carlisle. I love them like they're my own parents. After the accident, Carlisle helped me with all the legal trouble, and Esme, the emotional. They did what their son was supposed to.

I look at myself in the mirror, long and hard.

I look beautiful.

I look like my mother, and it makes me sick.

I sigh and head to my room where I turn my TV on. Once I'm comfortable, I pack a bowl and smoke until I'm faded, and then drift off to into a dreamless slumber.

* * *

A knock at the door wakes me. I check the clock on my cable box; it reads 9:07. I yawn and head to the door, grabbing a granola bar on my way. Alice is on the other side, her mascara smudged down her cheeks.

"What happened?" I ask, ushering her inside.

"We got into a fight."

"What about?" I ask, pouring her a glass of wine.

"She wants the nursery to be yellow," she wails.

"How dare she?!" I gasp, chuckling.

"It's not funny, Swan." Alice says.

"Okay, it's not. But it _is _fairly ridiculous. You're married now. Bickering about silly things is all part of the deal."

She sniffles. She knows I'm right.

"Go home to your wife, Pix. And paint the damn nursery yellow, it's gender neutral and adorable."

Alice smiles and nods.

"You're right. But can I stay awhile? Rose isn't letting me drink so we can 'both experience pregnancy' and it's killing me," she says.

We both burst out in laughter.

"Let me grab the vodka."

* * *

**A/N: Thanksgiving is coming and yes, it will be as dysfunctional as you think. Thanks so much for reading. Please review!  
**


End file.
